


the syncing of hearts

by Fiction_Over_Fact



Series: Steadfast [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Uchiha Izuna Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 03:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16338671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiction_Over_Fact/pseuds/Fiction_Over_Fact
Summary: Madara was a little brother once, an only child for a short time, and has been an older brother for most of his life. He holds onto that last title with everything he has.





	the syncing of hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Un-betaed, title isn’t from anything but my brain this time, though I imagine there’s probably a poem or book somewhere that uses similar phrasing. (Also there's apparently a debate about whether it's spelled syncing or synching or if both are acceptable? so I just used the one that AO3 didn't red line.)
> 
> This is an optional sequel for of the same star, by which I mean that I wrote this originally as one of my attempts at an ending for OTSS but then I couldn’t get it to flow right so I scrapped it. However, I got a comment suggesting a continuation that was basically the same thing as what I’d already started writing (this fic) so I gave it another go and it…sorta worked out? I don’t know that the tone matches as well as it should but hey, I can always edit.  
> Anyway, if you like the ending of OTSS as it is, feel free to disregard this—that’s the optional part. 
> 
> *If you haven’t read OTSS you probably should before this, it’s short and context makes this less confusing.*

Madara was a little brother once.

He doesn’t remember it well—Kurumi was eight years older than him, the sole child Tajama’s first wife had before she died. Madara adored her—every second that she carried him on her back, every flower crown she wove into his hair, every joke she whispered to him at dinner with bright eyes and a smile like a star. She died when he was not quite five years old.

For three days that lasted an eternity, he was an only child.

Then Izuna was born and he was an older brother.

It was a new title—a change that didn’t make him miss Kurumi any less but filled a void he hadn’t been aware he had. Izuna didn’t carry him around or bring him flower crowns or tell him jokes. Instead, Madara did all that for Izuna.

And perhaps he also threw him into the koi pond and messed up his hair, but that was one of the privileges of being an older brother. Madara wants those privileges for the rest of his life.

More than peace, more than victory, more than anything Tajama once lectured him about, with a harsh voice and hard eyes.

More than anything in the world, Madara doesn’t want to be alone again.

More than anything else in the world, he doesn’t want to lose his brother.

 

“I would’ve thought you’d be happier about this.”

Madara jumps, looking up from Izuna’s hand clutched in his own— _white, too white, white like ghosts and dead men_ —to his face. He hasn’t been able to look at it for two days, not with Izuna so unnaturally, eerily still he might as well have been a stranger.

He blinks, heart frozen in his chest.

Izuna looks…terrible, actually—caked with dried sweat, dark circles under his eyes. Tired and worn—things that his brother should never be, not with Kurumi’s starry smile and the ever-present mischievous shine to his eyes that was all Izuna.

But he was _alive_.

“You’re awake,” Madara croaks, voice scraping its way out of his throat. He hasn’t had anything to drink since Izuna went under last time, had waved Hikaku away more aggressively with each offer. 

The asshole has the nerve to roll his eyes.

“Thanks for pointing that out to me ‘Dara, you’re a real help.” Izuna sounds better than he does, and it might annoy him if it didn’t make him so happy. He wants to put up with Izuna for the rest of his life.

Madara glares even though they both know his heart isn't in it and helps him drink some of the water Hikaku had left, hand cupped around the nape of Izuna’s neck to support him.

Something inside him settles and calms at the touch, a scream and a forest fire to a whisper and a torch, quieter and cooler because Izuna is _alive_ and so close nothing could get to him through Madara.

He won't let it.

Once he’s finished, Izuna lays back down with a pained grunt that makes Madara’s heartbeat stutter and then proves that, almost dead or not, he’s still the same annoying little bastard he’s always been.

 “So you _aren’t_ happy about this?” Izuna persists. His voice at sounds better, though Madara can’t properly appreciate the improvement through the confusion he feels at that question.

“What?” He asks, looking over Izuna’s wounds and his unnatural pallor.

The sight alone, the mere _reminder_ of what had just happened, what had _almost_ happened, is enough that his stomach wavers, hot and sick. There’s nothing about the sight that makes him happy.

“Why would I be happy about you throwing yourself on a sword and doing your best impression of a corpse?” It had hurt to think about it—like scratching at the edges of an open wound. Talking about aloud is even worse.

Perhaps in a few years the memory won't make him feel like he was the one who got gutted. He doubts it.

Izuna rolls his eyes again, looking off to the side of the room.

“The soulmate thing,” he says, like that’s enough of an explanation for Madara to be okay with him almost dying.

He can almost feel his brain stall. “ _Why_ would that make me happy?”

Izuna just turns back to him and gives him a look like he’s a particularly stupid animal.

“I’m soulmates with Senju Tobirama,” he drawls out, slow and simple as if Madara were a small child learning a new language rather than his elder brother and clan head. There might be some merit to Izuna’s sarcastic attempt at explaining whatever he’s on about though, because Madara still doesn’t know why the fuck that would make him happy.

Looking equally frustrated but a great deal more exhausted than Madara, Izuna huffs before he continues.

“I can’t kill my soulmate, now can I? And you know how these things tend to go without an alliance. So you get to have your peace.” He sneers a little bit as he says peace but doesn’t look too upset, more like he’s disgruntled that he’s lost an argument and less like he’s completely changed his mind on the biggest disagreement they’ve ever had.

Madara blinks several times, a barrage of _relief-joy-shock_ because of _Izuna agreeing to peace_ rolling through him before indignation hits and he settles into _anger_ instead, protective, righteous and merciless, fitting around his shoulders like a well-worn coat, for Madara is good at many things and fury is near the top of the list.

Izuna shouldn’t have to be with the man who damn near killed him, no matter what fate thought.

“I could kill him for you,” he offers, already thinking.

It would be hard to do, he knows. Izuna would have to both off the battlefield by a good distance to avoid the sympathetic death killing Tobirama would cause. But, with Izuna gone, Tobirama would be left free to attack other Uchiha that weren’t as skilled as his brother and, as proven by the Senju taking down even Izuna, they wouldn’t be enough to kill him.

Madara could do it himself—would _love_ to do it himself—but it would only be possible if he wasn’t fighting Hashirama, which was very unlikely to happen. It wasn’t like the big lug would just sit aside while Madara killed his brother.

And regretfully, irritated as he is, it felt wrong to imagine putting Hashirama through what he had just felt, no matter how his soul simmered and boiled at the thought of Tobirama.

Not when Hashirama was the only reason Izuna was in front of him now, pale and weary but  _breathing_.

“’Dara, I can smell burning, stop thinking so hard.”

Madara jolts just slightly at Izuna’s voice, focusing back on his brother’s face. The corners of his eyes are crinkled up a bit, his face fond and warm.

Actually…

“Hey,” Madara protests, when he catches up with Izuna’s meaning. “I’ll show you something burning,” he threatens hollowly, glaring.

Izuna just smirks and shakes his head, amused. He’s well aware that Madara would never hurt him in his condition, especially so soon after he’d almost lost him. Which gives him full license to act like a little shit.

“Can you wait to kill me till _after_ I’m out of my deathbed, dear brother?”

Despite the joking tone, Izuna’s voice hitches when he says ‘deathbed.’

Madara doesn’t mention it, instead crossing his arms and scowling. Izuna looks back at him for a long moment before he sighs, leaning into his pillows and tipping his head back to look up at the ceiling.

There are still holes in it from when he used to throw kunai at it when they were kids.

“I don’t mind, you know,” Izuna says after a minute, voice soft. It isn’t a whisper, it’s too loud for that but it’s…gentle, almost. The kind of tone one used for delicate subjects, things meant to be handled with grace and care.

Madara blinks, surprised.

Izuna doesn’t give him the chance to answer.

“Don’t get me wrong, I would never have _wanted_ this but…” he shrugs then, nothing more than a slight roll of his shoulders. The gesture makes him look thinner in his loose robes. “Well… it might be nice, dying less often.”

Madara’s heart aches at the sight, throbbing like a fresh bruise.

“You didn’t really die,” Madara growls. The distinction feels important to him, the acknowledgment that Izuna had been _gone_ for a few seconds too painful to bear thinking about.

Izuna snorts.

“Yeah, and who made sure of that?” His voice bitter and brittle as he says it, full of pointed edges, ready to break.

That throws Madara for a second, but he knows the answer.

“Hashirama, he repaired the most immediate damag—”

“Wrong.” Izuna interrupts, tilting his head back down to look at Madara. His eyes were tired and resigned but there was a light in them that sparked and flashed, a touch of something between intrigue and interest.

“Tobirama,” he says. Madara feels the hair on the back of his neck raise, skin prickling with _wrongness_.

“ _What?_ He’s the one that tried to kill—“ Izuna holds up a hand to stop him and, for once, it kills Madara’s rant before it can really begin.

Normally he just trudges on, too wound up to stop. But…it’s difficult to ignore Izuna now when he still looks so close to breaking, _fragile_ and _thin_. He's fine now, out of danger from his wounds but…Madara had come so horrifyingly close to never getting to hear Izuna speak again.

He’ll gladly listen now, no matter how disagreeable his words.

“He stopped and called for his brother to help me,” Izuna says, and then pauses, watching Madara with raised eyebrows, waiting for his inevitable protests.

Madara doesn’t disappoint. “He didn’t do that for _you_ , if you’d d- _died_ out there he would’ve as well. Not even the Senju’s fucking wraith himself can escape sympathy that close.” His voice breaks and stumbles when he mentions what almost became of his brother but Izuna, returning the earlier favor, doesn’t mention it.

His next action isn’t nearly as kind.

“He could have just killed us both.”

Madara almost flinches, Izuna’s words not harsh or loud but landing like blows all the same. He _knows_ that, knows how close he came to losing his brother, knows Izuna only lives now based on the mercy of a man known for having none.

Izuna doesn’t let up. “It’s what I would’ve done,” he says, and then shrugs when Madara blanches, horrified at the idea that Izuna would throw his life away for _Senju Tobirama_.

Izuna snorts, amused by the look on his brother’s face. “You wouldn’t understand. You and Hashirama have your whole ‘peace’ thing, you fight but neither of you are actually trying to kill each other.”

Madara frowns but holds his tongue. It is, he knows, deep down inside of himself in cracks where things like _hopes_ and _dreams_ grow tender leaves and petals, true.

Izuna nods, apparently satisfied with that reaction, and continues.

“Every time I’ve fought Tobirama I’ve risked my life for the chance to kill him. If I had the guarantee that he would die with me,” his voice trails off for a second before he shrugs again, the rustling of his blankets almost painfully loud to Madara’s ears. “Well, if _I_ was the one who took Tobirama down and felt the sympathy, then we’d both be dead. So yes, you should be happy about this.”

Madara stares at his brother, sure he’s misunderstood what Izuna said, sure that he’s not trying to make Madara accept that Tobirama saved Izuna’s life by damn near killing him.

“And you’re willing to give him a chance? Just because he didn’t kill you and let himself die?” Madara hears the questions asked, rough and gravelly. It takes a few seconds longer to process that it's his voice speaking them. "That's good enough for you?"

Izuna side-eyes him and shoots a leading glance at the half-full water pitcher but answers.

“Soulmates don’t have to mean anything,” he points out. “But not killing me when he had the chance, _saving_ me when he didn’t have to…that’s interesting enough that I’ll attend a peace talk. Maybe even two.” He smiles teasingly then, and it glimmers and shines, starry in a way Madara hasn’t seen in months, long before bedsides and bloodied grass and soulmates.

Something like an air of resignation to the coming disaster that was his brother _interested_ in figuring out Tobirama settles over him then, mixed with the return of an opportunity long ago missed. It’s a heavy weight but a warm one, and it sparks with potential, as bright and beautiful as the long-gone summer days of his childhood.

Perhaps even like days soon to come.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> I have mixed feelings about it but I’m like that with…basically everything I write really, so what do I know? I have no idea whatsoever if I’ll do any more follow up for this (TWAL gets priority and I didn’t really have a plot in mind when I wrote OTSS) but I’ll leave the series incomplete just in case. 
> 
> I hope Madara isn’t…too much? Because I wanted his relationship to Izuna to obviously mean a lot to him (after all, canonically, losing Izuna Really fucked him up) but I’m nervous that he got a little too intense about it. 
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated! Also if you see typos I missed hit me up because I _tried_ but there's always more. 
> 
> +My tumblr (for writing and fandom stuff) is fiction-over-facts, so feel free to check that out and talk to me if you want?


End file.
